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Skeptic of many forms
apart from sorrow, anger, grief, or joy
what have you become

the frame holds these in many shapes
but can hold nothing else
why do you see a curse?
the path that held laughter grew silent

a child stares at the sky;
you called it empty, but
innocence shows him there
what has long escaped you

my friend
it is not this detachment you carry,
it carries you instead
from true self into nothing.

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